


Should Be Laughing But There's Something Wrong

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Series: Ke'riel [6]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Angst, Avariel, Elves, Half-orc, M/M, Miscommunication, Negotiations, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Reunions, Sarcasm, Unresolved Tension, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, hello these are some IDIOTS, i'm so happy we're finally playing them but also i'm going to fight them, uuhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: After quite a long while of Not Seeing each other, Kerhs and U'riel bump into each other by complete accident when they both end up taking a job to help escort a nervous elf to a dangerous mountain. Neither of them are particularly happy (but Tarik lives for the drama).





	Should Be Laughing But There's Something Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song Miss You by Louis Tomlinson. 
> 
> We started playing some more d&d! Which means... I'm going to be writing more U'ri stuff, because I am a SLUT with no self control!

The door opens, and the very first thing that U’riel hears is Kerhs’ voice.

Back in the market, U’riel had done a double take upon the sight of a cloaked figure passing by him, almost directly before the human who had been stealing from the butcher had been caught. The frame of the other had been enough to put him on high alert, but he had written it off immediately as his own wishful thinking. There is no reason for Kerhs to be here, and there is no reason for U’riel to be thinking of him. Again.

Now, U’riel is rather unhappy with himself for writing it off in the first place.

He stands, stock-still, in the doorway, taking in the look of surprised amusement on the face of the man currently staring at him over Kerhs’ shoulder. To his own shock, U’riel recognises this man, as well; it seems to be the man who had offered U’riel an invitation to perform at a bar somewhere in town only a few days before.

“Should I… introduce you? Should I announce you?” A rather nervous-looking servant startles U’riel from his thoughts, and the avariel raises a hand to stall the inevitable, alarm flashing through him at the thought of suddenly being in Kerhs’ company again after so much time spent reminiscing on the past and wishing things had ended differently. It is too late, though. The servant stands straight-backed, clears their throat, and announces, “Presenting-- uh--” Upon a panicked look from the servant, U’riel manages to force his own name out through the lump that has lodged itself in his throat. “U’riel! Of…” The servant looks at him again, expectantly.

“...It is alright,” U’riel says quietly, a pained grimace on his features. He speaks through his teeth, which he cannot seem to quite unclench. “You do not need to continue.” He hesitates, and then takes a step forward, out of the doorway. “Thank you.” The servant nods and leaves quickly, the door shutting behind him. Kerhs has stopped talking, but he has not turned around.

“Thank you,” the third man says. U’riel still does not know exactly who he is. “It is difficult to get him to shut up. I think this is the first time I’ve heard him be quiet in a long time.” His voice is accented, exactly the way U’riel remembers it. He wonders, now, if his suspicions about the man were at all accurate, before; if this man knows Kerhs, he does not doubt that it might be some sort of a trick.

It would be a cruel trick, but… U’riel knows Kerhs well enough to assume that he would not be averse to such a cruelty, if his hatred ran hot enough.

“That… does sound like him,” U’riel says faintly. Kerhs finally does turn around, but he is doing something strange with his hands. It takes U’riel a moment of squinting at him to figure it out: he is pinching himself.

“Kerhs?” he starts, hesitantly, but Kerhs waves him away.

“Sorry, darling. I’m just trying to wake myself up. I do hate it when the dreams get like this.”

“Dreams?” U’riel begins to ask, but before he can manage to pull any sort of explanation from Kerhs, the other man plucks a grape from the bunch on the table in front of him and throws it none too lightly at Kerhs.

“Ouch?!” Kerhs exclaims, rubbing at the spot on his arm where the grape made contact. He freezes after a moment, though, his gaze sliding slowly from the stranger to the spot where U’riel is standing. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“No,” U’riel says.

“Which means… you’re real.”

“The last time I checked,” U’riel states plainly.

“Oh.” Kerhs looks a strange mixture of terrified and pained, but all U'riel can do is stare at him. He drinks in the sight of him, because it has been too long, and U'riel... As much as he wishes it were not the case, he is _weak_ when it comes to Kerhs. He wants to do nothing more than to step forward and close the distance between them, to right the wrongs of the past and understand just what happened before, so that he can fix it. If he fixes it, if he fixes whatever went wrong between them, then perhaps they will be able to try again. Perhaps Kerhs will not hate him so much if U'riel can only figure out what happened. Perhaps--

“So, why did you leave?” the stranger asks suddenly, drawing U’riel’s gaze away from Kerhs. U’riel blinks at him in confusion, so he elaborates. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

The stranger raises a hand, wiggling it in a so-so gesture. “Mostly bad things.”

U’riel’s eyes go wide. Kerhs… still speaks of him? Bad things are not a shock, given how much Kerhs apparently detests him, but… it has been no short time since they parted. If Kerhs truly hates him this much, it may not be wise to be in the same room as him at all, as much as U’riel wishes to stay, to speak to Kerhs alone and understand even a small amount of his sudden change of heart when they had last seen one another.

“I did not expect--” U’riel begins, but Kerhs interrupts, waving his arms wildly in the air.

“He hasn’t heard anything! He just likes to… run his mouth. Loose lips, you know.”

U’riel frowns again, but before he can say anything else on the matter, the door opens once more, and the servant from before confidently announces, “Now presenting: Corian, of Reem!”

The youth that had asked for U’riel’s assistance in the market steps into the room, and the servant shuts the door without waiting for a signal to do so.

“Good, you’re all here,” Corian says, folding his hands together in front of him. He is bouncing on the balls of his feet, U’riel notices. He seems… nervous?

U’riel completely understands the feeling, even if his own emotion stems from a somewhat… more personal concern than the giant mosquitos that they may be facing on their journey into the mountains.

“I quit,” Kerhs says immediately. Corian’s nervousness immediately becomes more pronounced, but U’riel is no longer focused on him.

“You are also escorting him?”

“Was,” Kerhs says, shaking his head. “I will not work under these… conditions.” Kerhs does not look up, but U’riel knows that the “conditions” are more than likely his own presence in the job.

“Please! I need as many of you as I can get. I’ll… I’ll pay you more,” Corian offers desperately. Kerhs does perk up at that, his eyes narrowing as he looks up at the elf.

“How much more?”

“Twenty gold?”

Kerhs considers that a moment; U’riel can _see_ his mind working.

“Twenty-three.”

“I’ll make it an even twenty-five?”

Kerhs sits up straight in his seat. “Done.”

Corian gestures around the room, a sweeping arm movement that includes all three of them in it. “That will be for all of you, of course.” The urge to push away the offer of more money surfaces heavily in U’riel, but he pushes it aside. If this youth is willing to pay them more to escort him, then that is his business. U’riel is not doing this for the money.

Corian continues when nobody else speaks up. At a glance around, U’riel finds the stranger staring intently at Corian, while Kerhs is staring pointedly at the ground once again.

“I have asked you all to escort me into the Rookridge Mountains,” he tells them. “I have a parcel that needs to be delivered there.”

“A parcel?” U’riel repeats, because this is more information on this job than he has managed to get yet. In the long run, knowing that the diplomatically-dressed elf’s favourite colour is green is not going to be as much assistance as actually knowing what it is they are doing.

“Yes. A parcel.” Corian does not offer any more information than that, and U’riel accepts it, for the moment, at face-value. “There is a family in the woods that we’ll be delivering it to. You are to escort me there and back again.”

“How long will the journey take?” the stranger pipes up with. Corian shrugs a little.

“About four days, there and back.” He pauses, and then looks the stranger up and down. “I’m sorry, I do know the other two, but you… I don’t know your name.”

“Tarik,” the stranger says. U’riel’s brows raise.

“Ah. So you do have a name,” U’riel says, despite himself. Tarik turns towards him, a question in his eyes. “You did not introduce yourself the first time we met,” he explains. On the other side of him, Kerhs begins to splutter.

“You _know_ him?” Kerhs bursts out with. Tarik shrugs noncommittally. U’riel watches as Kerhs’ face shifts, flowing easily from anger to hurt to anger and finally settling on an obvious attempt at annoyance. “We’re talking about this later.”

“No, we aren’t,” Tarik says, half under his breath. U’riel finds himself biting back a small smile of amusement at the flippancy.

“You all… know each other?” Corian asks hesitantly.

U’riel is the first to respond. “Kerhs and I--” He stops himself, glancing over at his ex-lover. He swallows hard. “--grew up together,” he finishes, only slightly more subdued. Corian does not seem to notice his discomfort.

“Childhood friends! This is a nice reunion, then!”

U’riel winces. “...something like that.”

Kerhs gestures pointedly at Tarik, obviously changing the subject. “Tarik and I frequent the same bar.”

Corian sounds like he is questioning himself even as he forces out, “Oh! Bar friends!” There’s a pause, and then Corian looks between U’riel and Tarik. “And the two of you?”

“We are lovers,” Tarik deadpans, and U’riel stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending.

“ _What?!”_  Kerhs yelps, pushing the chair he is sitting in back and jumping upright.

“We are not lovers,” U’riel states firmly. Tarik is chuckling, and Corian laughs nervously along with him.

“Well, we should head out soon,” Corian says, laughter dying away awkwardly. Kerhs is still staring daggers at Tarik, who waves him off easily.

“It was a joke,” he states, and Kerhs continues to glare at him. Tarik ignores it, making his way towards the door. “I need to pick up some things from my home.”

U’riel does not understand the anger. If Kerhs does truly detest him, perhaps it is only right that he is angry if he believes someone he considers a friend is with him in such a manner? Perhaps he believes that U’riel will do something to hurt Tarik?

But U’riel has never done anything to hurt Kerhs. He has never understood where the loathing, so sudden and so terribly strong, had come from. If he had done something to harm Kerhs, he would have at least expected Kerhs to say something _to_ him about it. Kerhs is rather known for his dramatics, after all. It shows, too, as he huffs in the showiest way possible and crosses his arms, turning away from both Tarik and U’riel. U’riel glances at Tarik and exchanges a glance with him; if this is going to be the state of affairs for the next four days, then it is going to be a very, very long four days indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kerhs belongs to @humorless_hexagon  
> Tarik belongs to @ragtag_slyboots  
> Corian (and the campaign) belong to @mushygreens on tumblr


End file.
